Monday, May 18, 2015

Chapter 6: Virtual Christmas - The Festivus for the Rest of Us!

"Frank Costanza: Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way. Cosmo Kramer: What happened to the doll?

Frank Costanza: It was destroyed. But out of that a new holiday was born … a Festivus for the rest of us!" Jerry Stiller and Michael Richards. Seinfeld.

The
Autobiography of Ben and Bob

Chapter 6:
Virtual Christmas - The Festivus for the Rest of Us!

I spent the first
thirteen years of my life living in Tehran, the capital of Iran. My extended
family, though, is from the Persian Gulf area in the South of Iran (Khuzestan
province), right across the border from Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Iraq.

Tehran is a
modern and chaotic metropolis with over ten million inhabitants. It’s also land
locked and is situated at an altitude of almost 2000 meters – resulting in warm
summers and cold winters with many feet of snow. Khuzestan, my ancestral
homeland, however, is hot and dry with average temperatures of 115
degrees Fahrenheit in the summer months, sometimes soaring to 130 degrees in
the shade.

The region in
the north of Iran, just a few short hours from Tehran and adjacent to the Caspian
Sea, is known for its beautiful weather and was a popular summer holiday spot.
We used to go there roughly once a year, but equally frequently, we ended up
going to Ahwaz (the capital of Khuzestan province) to visit family. And of
course these usually ended up being in the dead of summer to cope with our
school schedules - not the smartest time to go south, but family usually
won out.

I remember
spending many happy summer afternoons in Ahwaz with cousins. We used to wander
around the town without a care - and didn't even mind the oppressive heat. I'm
talking heat that melts the tar on the road. Heat that requires a cold bottle
of soda against the forehead every ten minutes.

We tried,
intermittently and unsuccessfully, to hide from the heat. Once, on a dare, we
watched "The Guns of Navarone"
(all two hours and forty minutes of it) three times in a row in the same
afternoon - waiting out the blistering heat outside in the dark air conditioned
movie house. The evenings, though, were magical. They were enchanting and sultry
and loaded with opportunities for mischief.

So far so
good. So we visited our relatives in a God forsaken hell hole in the middle of
summer. So what?

Here’s the
interesting part. Once in a while, we would go to a place called
"Atish-ha": literally, "The Fires". These were giant
chimneys sticking out of the ground burning excess natural gas from the oil
wells.

So we waited
for the sun to set and then went to a public area near these massive chimneys. I’m not sure what the temperature was
at these locations, but I’m pretty sure it dwarfed that of the afternoon sun. The
idea was to find a spot a few hundred yards away from the chimneys and enjoy a
nice picnic in the evening. The older folks would camp out here and enjoy the
light and the heat of the "fires" while playing cards or backgammon.

I suppose I can squint really hard and consider this as the equivalent of the heat lamp seen so often in our backyards today – except multiplied by a thousand.

You have
to realize that we are not talking about a park setting here with trees and a
lawn. This is a desolate Saharan landscape with nothing but dirt as the
backdrop - Mad Max style. Somehow I never questioned it at the time,
but the idea seems absurd in hindsight.

Of
course, as children, we used this opportunity to play all kinds of games, the
most popular of which centered around getting as close
as possible to the fires and staying there for the longest period of time - the desert dweller version of holding your breath under water, with the
additional side benefit of frying our pre-adolescent brains like an egg for the duration.

If this
had been the U.S., there would have been a restricted zone a mile wide around
these chimneys with round-the-clock security guards. This being Iran in the 1970's,
not only was there no restricted zone, but we were encouraged by
our parents to enjoy ourselves. I'm sure they'd all be in prison
for child abuse today, but I have to admit - it was a blast at the time.

But what does
any of this have to do with Christmas?

Let’s
press the Pause button on this story - and let's fast forward to December 2014,
when my wife and I spent a few days this past holiday season with our soon to
be in-laws. Forty years later and a life time away, we were welcomed
into the warm family embrace of our new relatives – and spent quality time
getting to know each other. Let’s be clear, though. They live in Minnesota. It
was ten degrees Fahrenheit outside, not considering the wind chill factor. We didn't have much choice but to get to know each other.

We even
braved the frozen tundra once or twice to go visit the Amish. I was touched by
their simple lives but had trouble convincing myself that such a life of
hardship – with no central heating or plumbing, no advanced education or
technology – was a reasonable approach to life in this day and age when we’re
working on sending civilians to outer space.

Anyway, I
thoroughly enjoyed our time with our new in-laws, but the experience left me
wondering: Why do we always have to enjoy time with family in terrible weather?
Why not opt for “virtual holidays” in the middle of summer instead? We have virtualized
everything else in our world. Why not the holidays? Why not have a virtual
Christmas in July and be done with it? We can all enjoy spending time with friends
and family - and we don't have to freeze our asses to do so.

So here’s my
idea… Introducing Virtual Christmas – it’s just like Christmas, only warmer. It's the festivus for the rest of us!

Let’s face it
– the Europeans have a much better vacationing system than we do, everyone
pretty much taking off for the month of August. We could have a similar month
long summer vacation, perhaps starting with the Fourth of July festivities. I
claim this results in better productivity in the office by having everyone engaged
at the same time (how often do you have to postpone decisions because some random
person is on vacation?), but also improves extended family bonds over time by
promoting longer family-oriented vacations. Of course, this goes against our 24x7 lifestyles - some services may not be available for the month of July as businesses close for the holidays.

To our new in
laws: Welcome to the family. We love you. Thank you for your hospitality, but until
we have virtual Christmas in July, I recommend that we get together at our
place in California next time for the winter holidays. I promise - We can even
go outside without risking frostbite.